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She believed in him, and that propelled him forward. As long as he lived, he’d never forget that journey. The way the splintered burning wood tore at his feet ignited his pants hems and burned through fabric to skin. The pain was almost unbearable, but he couldn’t stop. They had to make it outside.
Gunner didn’t know how he made it out of the house, but they did, coughing and wheezing. He set Gemma on the ground at the edge of the yard.
His father came stumbling out, beating out fire from one pants leg. Gunner ran to help him, and his father screamed at him. “This is on you! You hear me, you miserable little bastard. It’s on you. You started this fire, and you deserve to roast in it.”
Gunner would never have believed his father would actually try to burn him, but that’s what he did. He grabbed Gunner and tried to drag Gunner into the burning house.
Gunner was fighting for his life, and neither of them noticed Gemma. She flew at her father as he bent over Gunner, trying to drag him toward the inferno. Gemma leapt onto his back and gouged his eyes. He straightened, screaming, wrenched her off and threw her.
Right into the fire.
The scene would replay in his mind until his final breath, the way her arms waved, hands grabbing for something, anything. The fire seemed to pounce on her,engulfing her small frame. Her mouth opened in agony, and she reached forward, as if for Gunner, and then she was gone, nothing but a fire encased small form.
When it fell, sending a curtain of sparks, Gunner felt something spark inside him. A strength he knew was invincible. He shoved his father and watched the man stumble and fall into the flames. Then Gunner went to the edge of the yard, sat down, and cried.
He’d promised to protect her.
He failed.
His father was right.
He was worthless.
Gunner realized he’d internalized that at a young age, he became the big strong kid who was too quiet and kept to himself. The one the other kids feared. It wasn’t until he met Riggs Walker that he remembered what it was like to have a friend.
He was on leave in Florida, of all places. It wasn’t his choice of locations. He chose it because a teammate, Juan’s family was wealthy and owned a home in Miami. Juan invited the whole team. It was a ten bedroom house, after all. There was plenty of room.
Gunner had no desire to spend his leave drinking with the men he spent ninety-percent of his life with, but women in bikinis and a lot of alcohol sounded pretty good. Even better, since it was free.
He said yes.
And ended up on a beach in Miami, with people screaming “shark” and pandemonium taking place. Gunner took in all the people scrambling to get out of the water, all the people on dry land hurrying closer to the water to see what was happening, and all the womenherding their kids way up into the dry sand, as far away as possible.
He saw all that and the thrashing in the water, and maneuvered his way through the people toward the water. He was five feet from the water line when he saw the man. Off to his left, hauling ass through the shallow water, heading in Gunner’s direction.
Gunner saw the man’s tattoo. He recognized it. Had an identical one on his left arm. Brother in Arms. SEAL. He grinned and waited for the man, then fell in step with him.
“Shark?” the man asked.
“Maybe.”
“Riggs,” the man grinned.
“Gunner.”
“Wanna go fishing, Gunner?”
Gunner would never forget the look in Riggs’ eyes or the silent message that accompanied the question. But he knew right from the start that Riggs was going to be a big part of his life.
Through his friendship with Riggs, he was able to see the reality of his childhood through someone else’s eyes. It helped him make a kind of peace with himself. Gunner had operated under a self-imposed mandate since he was young. Protect the innocent. No matter what. Do your job.
He carried that mandate today and always would, but he had come to understand the emotional and psychological mechanics that had formed that particular dynamic. His past had shaped him into someone always seeking redemption, a life for a life. Every life he saved was a life closer to redemption.
However, understanding his specific twitches and switches didn’t change who he was, and it wasn’t until Oakley that he was able to pause – to set down the weight he’d carried and just breathe.
That’s when he finally saw himself. Through the eyes of friendship when he looked at Riggs, or Riggs’ family, and through the eyes of love when he looked at Oakley. It stunned him to realize that their perception of him was of an exceptional man. A man of value. A friend.
It’d been a long hard journey, but finally it was done. He no longer had to pay for a death he could never have prevented. She refused to forgive him, because there was nothing to forgive. Oakley saw him. She knew his war and found no fault with him.
